


Best Part

by babyiknow



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:19:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyiknow/pseuds/babyiknow
Summary: “I’ll support you no matter what.  Whatever you choose to do, I’ll be with you every step of the way.  You can’t get rid of me that easy, Photon.” Maria cracks a smile at the nickname, and buries her head in Carol’s neck.“Thank you.”Time jumps





	Best Part

It’s early August when they meet, as Carol hustles into a dorm with two beds, blue sheets, a desk, a lamp, and, oh, a very pretty woman unpacking a suitcase into a dresser.   
“Um, hello?” Carol says, alerting this literal model of her presence in the room.   
“Shit!” The woman then proceeds to yelp, knock her head on an open drawer, and trip on the edge of wooden bed frame. Carol struggles to hold in a laugh as this poor woman absolutely eats it right in front of her.   
“Are you okay?” She stutters, her breath coming out in short puffs through her nose.   
“Yeah, I’m fine,” the woman grunts, pulling herself off the gray carpet. Carol rushes forward and pick up the pair of jeans she dropped, straightening out to see the brunette’s eyes already on her. They trace up her frame to focus on her face and, yep, Carol’s a goner.   
“My name’s Maria,” the woman says, and it’s like Carol’s waking up, speaking faster than her brain is moving, “Mine’s Carol.” When Maria’s hand grasps her own to shake, Carol swears she feels electricity. 

 

“C’mon Carol, pick up pick up pick-”  
“Hello?” Carol’s voice sounds scratchy, the same tone she gets each morning when Maria wakes her up for training.   
“Carol? It’s Maria.” Carol’s breath quickens, and the sound of sheets rustling crackles in the speaker of the phone.   
“Maria? Oh thank god, I was worried sick! Where the hell are you?”  
“I’m, I’m okay, I’m-” Maria stutters, she’s nervous, because how the hell could she be so stupid? What the hell is she going to say to Carol?   
Carol must pick up on her hesitation, because she softens her tone and, “ Maria, honey, whatever it is, you can tell me. I just want you to be safe.” Maria takes in a ragged breath, and Carol’s heart breaks because her girl is out there somewhere broken and afraid and- “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” There must be something in her voice that stops Maria from protesting, because without any fight left in her she whispers, “921 East 14th Avenue.”  
When Carol arrives, going at least 20 over the speed limit, Maria’s outside the building, tear tracks around her big cocoa colored eyes, and Carol almost sheds a tear herself. Maria must see her car barrel in through the drive, because she walks over, defeated, and slowly gets in.  
Carol gives her a moment to sit, but her concern ultimately gets the better of her and she can’t help it.   
“Maria, honey, what’s wrong?” It’s the pet name that causes Maria to look up, deep into Carols eyes, apologetic and guilty and disappointed all at once and Carol’s heart speeds up, worried for what’s to come.  
“I’m pregnant.” Carol freezes.   
“Oh.” Maria’s eyes start to well up, and Carol comes to life, unbuckling her seat belt and reaching around the console to throw her arms around Maria. The brunette crumples into her arms, and her tears spill down the back of Carol’s neck. It’s only when Maria’s breath slows that Carol pulls back, keeping a tight grip on Maria’s hand. She lifts her thumb to wipe under Maria’s left eye.  
“I’ll support you no matter what. Whatever you choose to do, I’ll be with you every step of the way. You can’t get rid of me that easy, Photon.” Maria cracks a smile at the nickname, and buries her head in Carol’s neck.   
“Thank you.”

 

There’s blood pounding in her ears and the hospital lights are a bit blurry, but through the haze she can see Carol, a swaddle of blankets in her arms, bouncing slightly with a look of pure awe on her face. She struggles to sit up, and Carol snaps her eyes away from the baby and rushes over to help, freeing one arm to adjust the pillows behind Maria.   
“How’re you feeling?” Carol asks, the same crease between her eyebrows appearing, as it always does when she’s concerned.   
“I’m alright, a bit sore.”  
“And tired, I bet, from the all the work it took to get this one here.” Carol turns her head to face the baby, her voice mellowing. Maria watches the two interact, and thanks God once again that Carol stuck around after flight school.   
“What’re you gonna name her?” Carol’s voice sounds out in front of her, having moved closer to perch at the end of her bed to hand over the baby.   
“Hmmm… I don’t know. I was thinking Angelica, but it doesn’t really sit right with me. Got any suggestions?” Maria grins, jokingly, shifting her eyes to Carol. The blonde moves to stand over Maria and the baby, gazing at the child lovingly.  
Carol’s face lights up, a thoughtful expression replacing her dopey smile. She lifts her index finger to stroke the slope of the newborn’s nose and pauses.   
“What if… have you thought about ‘Monica’?” She rushes the last fews words, seemingly nervous about suggesting a name.   
Maria thinks over the name. “Monica…” She rolls the name around her mouth a few times, but it’s when she looks at her child, and she sees wide, almond shaped, cocoa brown eyes twinkling back, all she can fathom is Monica.  
“Monica. My baby Monica. My little baby girl Monica.” Maria repeats the name, and her eyes are glistening when she looks back up at Carol.  
“We’re naming our little girl Monica.” Carol’s eyes spill over when she hears the words, throwing her arms around the two girls.   
“Thank you.” Carol whispers when the tears subside, her voice so small Maria almost doesn’t hear it.   
Maria just pulls her closer. 

It’s not a complete surprise when Carol moves in with the Rambeaus shortly after Monica’s birth. Carol was already granted a transfer, so when Maria decides to move herself and Monica to Louisiana, Carol takes the invitation and packs her shit to go. There’s a slight struggle looking for housing near New Orleans, the both of them being used to apartment life, but the grassy fields and dirt cheap price lures them out into the countryside. They install a porch swing, new appliances, and childproof everything in between.   
Baby Monica coos and babbles from where she’s strapped to Carol’s chest in a highly expensive, if Carol might add, baby carrier. Carol grunts, lifting a boxy T.V into the living room. Maria can’t help but admire the way her spaghetti-strapped tank top shows off Carol’s muscles flexing, from the combined weight of a 1 year-old child and an overweight 90s TV.   
“You know after that you’re gonna have to paint the nursery.” Maria calls, and the groan Carol lets loose sends a shiver down her spine. She shakes off the feeling, because, what?   
“Maria, why wouldn’t you just knock that out while I’m setting up the family room?” And Maria’s heart swoons as it always does when Carol calls them her family.   
“Girl, you know I don’t have one artistic bone in my body, now give Monica to me, I don’t want her sniffing paint fumes up there. I’ll finish up down here.”   
“Sure, tell me this after I’ve brought the T.V in.” She grumbles, but there’s a dopey smile on her face when she pulls Monica out of the carrier and hands her to Maria, their hands brushing during the transfer. She clicks her tongue once and begins to hop up the stairs, then pauses.  
“By the way, what color did you pick?” she calls from the middle of the staircase.  
Maria smiles, then answers, “Yellow. I picked yellow.” 

What’s a little bit of a surprise is when Maria comes up and the walls are a solid yellow with crisp, clean edges, daisies and sunflowers adorning the corners and spreading from wall to wall, little gardens blooming in the afternoon sunlight. Maria gasps, and when Carol turns, Maria kisses the shit out of her. 

Carol made it clear to Maria that after she retired from the military she wanted to be an astronomy teacher. She talked about space almost daily, naming constellations when Maria couldn’t sleep, whispering planets to a crying Monica, soothing her almost to the point where Maria thought “Jupiter” would be Monica’s first word. As soon as the child could talk, Carol would point out star structures and silhouettes, Monica’s wide eyes following her hand movements as Carol told legends surrounding them.   
When Maria asked her one night before bed, “Why don’t you become an astronaut?” Carol smiled, folding down the duvet and flicking a stray feather. “That’s easy, Maria. I don’t think I could bear to be away from my girls for that long.”   
Carol whispered that night of how Monica’s eyes look in the moonlight, of how her nose crinkles in the sun and, no, Maria doesn’t think she could either.

**Author's Note:**

> First work, literally got an invitation just to write this so I hope it's not too shitty. Anyway hope you like this.


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